Work Text:
He touched the linoleum. It felt cold to his clammy skin.
His head leaned on the side of his bathtub, hand gripped tightly around the bottle, pills scattered across the floor.
Buck had just wanted an escape; right? A mindless escape from the sorrow that infested his head, and tainted his bones.
Memories of that day swarmed in his mind, the damning feeling of being wanted, loved by ‘his mother’. Margaret had never given him that privilege, treating him as though he was nothing but a burden; forcing him to hurt himself for acknowledgment.
It’s not surprising Buck had done this.
For everything he had to live for - he had something to die for.
Being kidnapped by a psychotic, grieving mother was the final nail in the coffin. Although, he still felt sympathy for her, because all she wanted was a child once again.
A singular tear rolled down his cheek, a lone finger trailing upwards to swipe at it.
Buck was waiting, waiting for the cold comfort that comes from death, the darkness that encapsulates your consciousness. It wipes you of your agony, your pain, and your fears. But most of all - it wipes you of hope; the hope that still seems to glimmer within Buck.
A shaking hand reaches for his phone, cracked screen from the impact of the drop.
He dials the number without even thinking, exhaling the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, just sitting on the line in silence.
He’s glad that he didn’t get Maddie, that would’ve haunted him past the grave.
His phone feels heavy in his hand, slipping out of his grasp as he tires. He mumbles something, his voice a foreign echo.
His stomach aches, a fiery pain that grounds him, as if that pain is the only proof he is still alive.
His head falls to the side, sliding down the wall with his slumping body.
Just as he feels the familiar embrace of mortality, he’s jolted awake.
Sirens ring in his ears.
Eddie is staring at him; concern and horror etched upon his face.
All Buck could focus on was his pupils, watching them spasm as they take in the scene.
He feels warm hands running across his body, tears flowing down his cheeks, even if he doesn’t feel them.
He can’t feel anything now; but maybe he will once more.